


goo monsters and ghosts

by gayprophets



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, Humor, Shenanigans, au where the archival assistants actually have some fun, canon is a SANDBOX and I am BUILDING a CASTLE, jon's unhealthy eating habits, no relationship just martins hopeless crush, sasha is buff and i love her, set early early on in the first season, totally canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-20 14:15:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21283073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayprophets/pseuds/gayprophets
Summary: “We can’t just decide that,” Martin says. “We’re an academic institution! We don’t have any proof that ghosts aren’t corporeal.”“I do,” Sasha says dryly, smiling. “It’s right here in my noggin,” she knocks on her forehead a few times, as if to demonstrate. “I call it my common sense. I know you have some in there, Tim, do try and use it.”Martin snorts, much louder than he means to, and Tim mimes stabbing himself in the heart.“You both wound me,” he says, swinging his feet back off of his desk and sitting up. “Just for that, if I was a ghost and you were both getting attacked by a - what did he call it?”“Some kind of goo monster?” Martin says, opening the file again. “You know, come to think of it, I’m pretty sure his description of it matches a Jonny Quest episode.”-in which sasha picks up her coworkers and martin forgoes thinking about his job in favor of wondering what kind of cookies jon would enjoy the most.
Comments: 22
Kudos: 262





	goo monsters and ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> i apologize for the title. i could not think of anything else.

“It’s a crock of shite,” Sasha says, tossing the folder onto Tim’s desk and plopping down in her seat. Martin quickly grabs it before it can go skittering onto the floor and get crumpled or worse: spit the papers inside under something, never to be seen again. Even if it  _ is _ a fake statement, Jon should be allowed to see it first and confirm for himself. Also, Jon can be…  _ protective _ of the statements, and he’d like all of their heads to remain firmly attached to their shoulders, and perhaps not make Jon hate him  _ more, _ if that were even possible. 

“Why?” Tim asks, raising an eyebrow. He’s got his chair pushed out and is it back so he can have his feet thrown up onto his desk, which they’re all currently clustered around so that Sasha could give the statement a  _ proper _ dramatic reading. “Seems perfectly reasonable to me, given…” he gestures vaguely around them, indicating the whole Institute, presumably, or perhaps just the basement. “Well, given the givens.”

“A ghost can’t carry someone, let alone  _ two _ people, and  _ definitely _ not while running,” Sasha reasons, resting her chin on her hand. “I would say  _ because ghosts aren’t real, _ but…” she also gestures vaguely at their surroundings, “We’re here. A ghost can’t carry anyone because they’re  _ incorporeal, _ Tim.”

“We can’t just decide that,” Martin says. “We’re an academic institution! We don’t have any proof that ghosts  _ aren’t _ corporeal.”

“I do,” Sasha says dryly, smiling. “It’s right here in my noggin,” she knocks on her forehead a few times, as if to demonstrate. “I call it my common sense. I know you have some in there, Tim, do try and use it.”

Martin snorts, much louder than he means to, and Tim mimes stabbing himself in the heart.

“You both wound me,” he says, swinging his feet back off of his desk and sitting up. “Just for that, if I was a ghost and you were both getting attacked by a - what did he call it?”

“Some kind of  _ goo monster?” _ Martin says, opening the file again. “You know, come to think of it, I’m  _ pretty _ sure his description of it matches a Jonny Quest episode.”

“See?” Sasha says, gesturing at Martin, “Fake! The guy couldn’t even come up with his own monster!”

“If I  _ were _ a ghost,” Tim continues, louder, “And we were getting attacked by a goo monster, I would  _ not _ valiantly throw both of you over my shoulders and carry you away to safety. I’d just use my ghost teleporting powers and leave you two there.”

“Since when do ghosts have teleportation?” Martin asks. 

“They do in films,” Tim says, shrugging.

“Oh, of course,  _ films, _ the most accurate of sources,” Sasha laughs. “You couldn’t even carry Jon out of his office, Tim.”

“I could too!” Tim squawks, offended. 

“I suppose that’s not quite fair,” Sasha muses. “I mean, the  _ wind _ could probably carry Jon.”

“He really doesn’t eat enough,” Martin agrees, thinking about Jon’s bony wrists sticking out from the cuffs of his dress shirts. Martin finds that he really understands his Babcia when he looks at Jon: he  _ also _ gets the urge to knit seventy blankets and force feed everyone around him  _ bigos _ and  _ kopytka _ whenever Jon shivers in the chilly basement air or he watches Jon go all day on tea alone. 

“But you  _ definitely _ couldn’t carry me or Martin,” Sasha continues. Martin wonders if Jon’s ever tried  _ kopytka _ \-  _ probably not, _ he thinks. Jon doesn’t seem like the type to… well, he doesn’t know. Jon just doesn’t seem the type to eat comfort food.

“I could too!” Tim repeats. “I work out!” He flexes - he’s toned and fit, but not overtly muscular. 

“For show,” Sasha scoffs. “You just do bicep curls and run a bit on the treadmill, I’ll bet. You couldn't do  _ anything _ with those.” From Tim’s affronted grumbling, she’s probably correct. While Martin is pretty sure Jon wouldn’t eat a lunch Martin brought in for him on the basis of  _ that’s creepy, _ he’s pretty sure he could swing things for the whole basement - like muffins, or cookies. 

“Does anyone know what Jon’s favorite cookies are?” Martin asks, trying to remember if he used all of his chocolate chips up so he knows whether or not to swing by the grocer on his way home. 

“It’s not like you could carry me and Martin either,” Tim says, ignoring him.

Martin stands up. “I’m gonna go ask Jon-,” he cuts himself off with a loud yelp as suddenly his whole world jolts and flips - when he reorients himself, he’s been slung over Sasha’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes. 

“I can,” she says, her other hand on her hip. Martin’s face is uncomfortably close to Sasha’s lower back, and as such he can’t see the face that Tim is making, but he assumes it’s probably guppy-esque. Martin pinches her side.

“Warn me next time!” he says, giggling, and she shifts her grip in response. 

“C’mere, Tim!” Sasha says cheerfully, and Martin hears Tim’s chair roll as he stands up and obviously starts backing away from her advance. “I said I could carry you both, let me prove it!”

“You stay away from me, woman,” Tim commands, laughter bubbling up in his voice as he dodges out of her reach.

“Aw, don’t be like that!” she says, chasing after him. “Let Mama Sasha pick you up!”

“No!” Tim says, and Sasha lunges for him again, nearly busting Martin’s nose open against her spine as she hefts Tim with one arm. “You’re a  _ menace! _ Put me down!”

“Admit your muscles are just for show and I will!” Sasha chirps. 

_ “Never,” _ Tim says vehemently, struggling. “I’ll - holy  _ shit _ how are you so  _ strong _ \- I’ll have you know that these muscles drive  _ everyone _ wil-!”

A lot of things happen at once. 

First, Jon’s office door slams open, hitting the wall. Sasha startles and jerks dramatically, turning to face him, which whacks Martin’s head against his own desk. At his yelp, she drops Tim.

“What is going on -?!” Jon starts.

“Oh my God, Martin!” Sasha says at the same time, righting him a little too quickly, he jerks back from her before she’s really got either of their footing sorted out, and as such they both fall backwards, Martin landing on his ass with a curse.

“Are you okay?” Sasha asks, panicked, shuffling to kneel beside him. Martin sits up in time to watch Jon slowly step back into his office with a look of total exasperation on his face, clearly unwilling to deal with them all. “I am so,  _ so _ sorry -,”

“No, no, it’s okay!” Martin reassures her quickly, bringing a hand up to his temple to assess the damage. It’s tender and pulses with pain in time to his heartbeat, but not awful. A small bruise at most, he thinks.

“Are you sure?” she asks, her soft hands fluttering from his forehead to his shoulders and then back to her sides. “What’s the date today?”

“I don’t have a  _ concussion,” _ Martin says, rolling his eyes. “I’m  _ okay, _ really, just -,” Tim’s hand appears in his peripheral vision, and Martin accepts the help up. “Thanks,” he says, then: “I was just startled. It’s okay!” 

“I’m  _ really _ sorry,” Sasha repeats, standing up before Tim can offer to help and brushing off the knees of her black leggings, her dark eyes wide and round. Martin waves it off.

“It’s okay,” he says again, pulling his hand away from the bump before he does something stupid like press on it and wince. “Jon’s - Jon’s probably mad at us, huh?”

“Oh, he can stuff it,” Tim says, slinging an arm around Martin’s shoulders. “You’re really okay, man?”

“Should we take you to A&E?” Sasha asks. Martin shrugs Tim off and flaps a hand at her. 

“Cut it out, you guys. If I go to A&E Jon’s going to be  _ more _ mad. It’s fine.”

“If you’re sure,” Sasha says, sounding dubious. “I’m going to get you an ice pack.” 

She does, and they all go back to their respective desks. It’s quiet for a few minutes before Sasha goes: “Tim?”

“Yeah, Sash?”

“Never doubt me again,” she tells him, pointing the end of her pen at him. He laughs.

“I won’t,” he promises, shaking his head. “But, you  _ did _ just prove my point.”

_ “How?” _ she asks, exasperated.

_ “Your _ ghost could carry two people from a goo monster. You just have to be a  _ buff _ ghost.”

“Oh, for God’s sakes,” she says, putting her head down on her desk with a bang.  _ “Ghosts aren’t corporeal!  _ They can’t carry  _ anyone!  _ That’s the  _ point _ of  _ ghosts!” _

“Citation needed,” Tim says, still chuckling.

Sasha throws her hands in the air, her mouth obviously struggling not to smile. “What’s  _ your _ source then, Tim?”

Tim gestures grandly to the slim folder in front of him. “Goo-boy, of course.”

“Oh,  _ Christ, _ don’t call him _ that,” _ Martin says, “He has a  _ name!” _

“Goo-boy is catchier,” Tim says. 

“A discredited -,” Sasha starts.

“It’s not discredited yet!” Tim interrupts.

_ “A discredited statement is not a good enough source!” _ Sasha continues. “What do you think, Martin? Your masters is in parapsych, right? Would you use Goo-boy in your thesis?”

“If I brought in apology cookies tomorrow,” Martin says, because  _ oh god, subject change  _ ** _now,_ ** “Do you think Jon would prefer chocolate chip or snickerdoodle?”

“I think _ I _ would prefer snickerdoodle,” Sasha says. 

“I’m pretty sure the boss is going to be a wet blanket no matter what you bring, but you are  _ welcome _ to try if it means I get cookies out of the deal,” Tim says.

Martin brings in snickerdoodle. Jon informs him, loudly, that he is  _ unbribable, Martin, and in any case does not like sweets. _ He shuts the door to his office before Martin can clarify that they’re  _ apology _ cookies, not bribery.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me at themlet on tumblr. comments and kudos are appreciated. I love you all! <3


End file.
